“Do you want me to read to you?” my oldest asked his almost 2-year old sister recently. She nodded eagerly. “How about this one?” He was holding up one of her current favourites, a sturdy Usborne book entitled Where Do Babies Come From? My heart warmed as they snuggled on the couch together. “A tiny seed from the father, called a sperm, joins with a tiny egg from the mother,” he read, while she lifted the flap to see a small human growing in-utero.
2018 seems to have slipped past when nobody was looking, and it is hard to believe the year is gone already. So much was done and so much happened, but as one of my friends noted, the days are long but the years are short. At the Canadian Centre for Bio-Ethical Reform, we were privileged to see our efforts culminate in over four million views of abortion victim photography, tens of thousands of people trained in apologetics, and most importantly, lives saved.
At CCBR, the most engagement we have with students is usually at high-school “Choice” Chain. We’ve found this particular initiative to be very effective; teenagers are just beginning to realize that they’ve been lied to. They’ve been told that sex and abortion aren’t a big deal, but as many of them look back on fractured families and broken relationships, many of them are starting to wonder if this is really a system that will make them happy.
Memories are simultaneously wonderful and strange. At times they come to the fore without having been summoned. On other occasions they remain vague, despite the desire to recall them more clearly. No matter how far I go back in my memories, there’s no recollection of first learning about abortion. Somehow, I knew that babies are being killed before being born, but that knowledge must have been too foreign to fully process. The day this concept became reality is burned into my soul.
I’m standing on a street corner in Toronto, holding a sign with an image of a first-trimester abortion victim on it. Many passers-by tend to avoid my gaze and the pamphlets in my outstretched end. A few pause to vent about why my colleagues and I are atrocious human beings who should have been aborted. A man stops in front of one of my shortest colleagues, but not to talk. He spits. She’s an easy target. It covers her face, her hair, even her arm. My eyes go wide, I fumble for my phone to film, but he’s already passed on. I rush over to help her.
Every conversation about abortion is at the same time a conversation about human rights. Human rights comprise many areas of human life which themselves open up to a variety of conversations on the multiple facets and practical implications of each right. Discussions on the right to life are integral to the broader picture, and an inadequate treatment of question in fact undermines the work in other areas of human rights. Why is that? The right to life is the necessary foundation to recognizing any other right.